


Wrong Turn

by keep_waking_up



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Drugged Sex, Dubious Consent, M/M, Magic Made Them Do It, Sex Magic, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-17
Updated: 2013-04-17
Packaged: 2017-12-08 18:56:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/764861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keep_waking_up/pseuds/keep_waking_up
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The worst thing was, they weren't even hunting it.  It was just their luck to stumble across it and get dragged in too deep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wrong Turn

The fucked up thing was, they hadn't even been hunting the damn thing.

They'd just been passing through, on their way to what appeared to be a vengeful spirit in Wyoming. They'd headed out from their last hunt in Wisconsin pretty late, the cops close on their tails. So it wasn't until they were a few states over that they dared to stop and find a place to sleep. Normally, they would've just kept going until they'd reached their final destination, but Sam had bitched enough about sleeping in the passenger seat that Dean had said, "Fine dude!" and pulled into a motel in the first town they came across.

Sam still feels bad about that.

And it wasn't like it was an auspicious holiday. It wasn't an equinox or a solstice. Just a normal day in November, right in between fall and winter. So when they pulled into the motel and checked into double queen, there was no reason for them to suspect trouble. They went through their evening routine, grunting at each other while salting the doors and windows, before collapsing into their individual beds. Sam noted that it smelled funny, but Dean just tossed a pillow at him and told him to stop being such a girl.

Sam wonders if Dean would feel bad about that.

He drifted in and out of a hazy sleep. He thought he was dreaming when he made out several shapes surrounding the bed. When one of them reached to stroke his face, he lolled into it, snuffling at their palm.

"These two will do well," one of the blurs commented. "They are young and strong. Liber will be pleased with them."

"It is his will that these two should arrive at such a time, when none of our young could suffice..." The hand on his face trailed down his body before massaging his crotch gently. Sam let out a light moan. "This one stirs. Give them another dose before we move them to the chambers to be readied."

The next time Sam achieved consciousness, he was more aware of the heavy feeling of his body, the slow sluggishness of his mind. He groaned as he peeled his eyelids open. Groggily, he registered that he was no longer in the motel room. Stripped naked, he was lying on his back on a hard wooden pallet. His hands and feet were bound lightly to the corners of the table, pulling him spread eagle. A few masculine shapes flitted around him, but he could not register their faces.

Drugged, he thought and tried to move his body to find he had little to no control of his actions. The drug was still potent then. He let out a weak sound as one of the men moved to hover over him.

"He awakes," the man said, and smeared oil over Sam's chest with one finger in looping patterns. "We do not have long before the midnight hour strikes. Then, he must be ready."

Ready for what, Sam wanted to ask, but couldn't force his mouth to move to do so. He could only groan as a hand griped at his cock, stroking it into hardness. Just as he felt he might come, he felt a sharp pain as a band of leather was pulled tight around the base, cutting off his release and forcing him to remain aroused. He tossed his head back and forth sloppily, only to be stopped as some slid a circle of what seemed to be assorted twigs and leaves over it. The last thing they put on was a simple necklace, a ring of wood on a golden chain.

As soon as they were done decorating him, they undid his ties, heaving him to his feet. Although he had somewhat more control over his movements, they still had to support him, dragging him out of the cabin he'd been in and into the cold night air. Sam shivered and tried to wrench away, but they were having none of it.

They brought him to a clearing and he could see other people circled there staring at him as they dragged him in. He opened his mouth, to scream or curse he didn't know, only to have rough cloth shoved into it and tied behind his head in a grimy gag. He yelled under the cloth, but it made no sound, and even as his attempts to fight back grew stronger, he was held firmly as he was dragged to the center of the clearing.

He only stopped struggling when he noticed another creature being dragged to join him. It was a young buck, well muscled, in its prime. It tossed its head and screamed in animalistic rage as they pulled it by the neck, but it could no more resist than he could, and there they were.

A man came and rubbed something liquid on Sam's forehead before doing the same to the deer. An odd quiet came over the clearing as he raised his hands to the sky and spoke several lines in a strange throaty language. A strange calm came over Sam, not in his mind, but in his body. They were suddenly detached. The person in his head had no control over the movements in his body. As much as he tried to fight, he could not move.

With one strangled sounding word, the man released the buck and it raced off into the wilderness. Only a second later, Sam realized that he too had been released. His muscles, stupid and disobedient, clenched and he was running after the mammal, racing barefoot and nude through the forest.

A hunt, he thought, and racked his brain desperately for all myths that could be related to this, any way he could get out of- of whatever it was. But there were too many, and it wasn't as if he could do anything in the first place but chase after that deer like his life depended on it.

It was fast, the buck, but he was faster. He heard its staggered breaths, its panting as it slowed. Even in its prime, it could not escape him and soon he had it only a few strides ahead, making little desperate noises like it knew what was coming for it. He gave one great leap, tackling the deer to the ground. They fought; it struggled against him, but his hands found their way to its neck and with a quick twist the life was gone from it. He pushed its carcass off of him and rose to his feet, triumphant. Without knowing why, he lifted it up, slinging it over his shoulder and strode off deeper into the forest.

His body knew where it was going, even if he did not. It moved with purpose, and he felt the arousal that had been hovering in the background of his mind grow stronger. He had just killed his prey, he ought to be rewarded.

Breaking out of the woods, he found himself in front of a cave carved into the mountain side. Candles lit his path as he strode forward, only ducking slightly to enter the cavern. His eyes adjusted abnormally quickly to the gloom and what he saw made his mind run with terror and body ache with desire.

The townsfolk had gathered in a kneeling circle around a slab of stone in the center of the cave. It was an ancient tablet, old enough that it had been molded and shaped to their desires, complete with circles for chains and hooks. A glittering statue of a nude man with leopards at his heels watched over the slab with an uncanny awareness. A laugh resounded in Sam's mind even as he cringed from the scene, for there, spread upon the table, nude and glistening, was his brother. Dean was panting, body gleaming with sweat. His arms were bound over his head, his hips forced upwards by a jut of stone, and his legs spread unnaturally wide. It had to hurt, that position and the hardness of the cock that jutted up from his stomach, tied just as Sam's was. His whole body seemed flushed with arousal and Sam felt his own body respond to the call, even as Dean looked at him with pleading pupils blown wide and whispered, "Sammy."

Kneeling against his will, he heaved the buck off his shoulder, lying it on the ground at the foot of the slab. Standing again, he held still as two women approached and tugged off the leather string binding his sex. A pulse ran through his body at the freedom, and he had a moment to wonder what this signified before he was crawling onto the tablet to hover over Dean.

As his cock brushed against his brother's, a strain of horror ran through him. No, no, he tried to say, he's my brother, you idiots. He screamed at whatever being was possessing his body, begging it to release him as he stared horrorstruck into Dean's equally frightened eyes.

A foreign laugh rippled out from the core of him, but remained within his head. Mate, it said, Time to lie with your Mate, Hunter.

The man who had spoke the initial words at the clearing came forward. "The Hunter has killed his prey. Now he shall lie with his Mate, and our land and women will be blessed with fertility by the god Liber, if he is so pleased. We hail the sacred union of Hunter and Mate. Come and be complete." Those aged fingers reached between them, spreading Dean's ass wider until Sam could see his quivering hole. No, he thought once, but couldn't stop it as he surged forward, burying himself deep within his brother.

Nothing could stop the thing within him now. He braced his arms beside Dean's head as he thrust again and again, hitting deep inside his brother under him. Sam watched, fascinated and disturbed as Dean's face transformed with undesired pleasure. He made a litany of little noises, whimpers and whines that only drove Sam faster, until he was sure he must be hurting Dean. But he couldn't stop. This was his Mate, his Mate beneath him for the taking. And he would take him, just as he should, for his Mate lived for him, him and his pleasure. The foreign thoughts made him growl as he ground into Dean even harder.

With an abrupt cry, Dean came with no touch anywhere but that little spot inside him. His moans grew higher as Sam didn't stop until they turned into an overly stimulated sobbing. When Sam released inside of him, Dean screamed, tossing his head back and forth as he came a second time, all too soon.

There was a pull of power whirling around them, as fierce as a gust of wind. Sam felt Liber's spirit pull out of him and he collapsed, unable to hold himself any longer. The people of the town were cheering, dropping to their knees in front of the statue with a rhythmic chant. Using all his strength, Sam pulled out of his brother, fingers fumbling as he tried to untie him. Dean made small hurt sounds, eyes glazed and disoriented. Drugged, Sam thought, and felt even more sick. It took all he had to fully unchain his brother before he fell next to him into a deep sleep.

When Sam woke, they were back in the motel room, curled in the same bed with the oil and markings from the previous night rubbing off on the sheets. Dean was still asleep, murmuring and muttering as his dreams played out. Sickness rising within him, he raced to the toilet, vomiting as quietly as he could into the bowl. As soon as he was done, he washed his cold and clammy hands and wetted a washcloth. As carefully as he could, he wiped his brother down, cleaning him of everything that had been done. Dean didn't even stir, still obviously under the influence of whatever had been given to him the evening before. Sam showered himself quickly, before clothing them both and hauling their stuff out to the car. He packed the Impala, then slid Dean into the passenger seat and sat behind the wheel. He raced out of town, signs blurring past him.

Dean woke up at noon, rubbing his eyes as he stared disoriented at their surrounding. He frowned, and Sam could see the memories flood him. "Sam?"

"Yes?" Calm, sure.

"Didn't we stop at a motel last night?"

Sam laughed, quick and dismissive, even as his gut clenched. "Dude, what're you on? You made us sleep in the car, remember?"

Frowning, Sam could see the memories warring with Dean's desire to believe it wasn't true. He breathed out a sigh of relief as Dean's expression smoothed and he fiddled with the radio. "Man, Sammy, you would not believe the dreams I had."

Sam's hands clenched on the steering wheel. "Yeah." He kept driving.


End file.
